


Break a Leg

by edy



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing Lessons, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Pining, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edy/pseuds/edy
Summary: They're doing a musical this semester—Rent. Tyler's seen the movie version when he was a teenager. It stuck with him. He's trying to be happy, but that's hard to do when Josh is on his way to nabbing Roger with a pretty Latina transfer student as Mimi. They have great chemistry, which is fine—and it makes Tyler want to both vomit and cry. They're good together, Josh never not smiling and taking his eyes off her, which is fine—and it makes Tyler want to both vomit and cry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> translation into русский available: [Ни Пуха, Ни Пера](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5286028) by [RunTheConverse](https://ficbook.net/authors/288286)

Tyler thinks about stopping him after class, on the sidewalk, on the street corner. Tyler thinks about touching his arm, fiddling with a string on his hoodie, telling him he's a good actor, he's a good _kisser_. Dear God, he's a good kisser.

But Tyler can't say that. Tyler's never kissed anyone, for that matter, let alone Josh Dun.

Every semester, even going as far back as their sophomore year in high school, Josh and Tyler were theatre kids. They weren't friends in the sense they had each other's phone numbers and talked all the time and hung out aside from school. No, they barely shared the stage. Tyler was shy and liked working the lights. Josh was an actor, and he was damn good at it. From musicals to one-man acts, Josh always managed to squeeze his way into the limelight. For _Romeo and Juliet_ , he was Romeo twice in a row. For their latest run, their theatre professor wanted to "spice things up", and so they switched Juliet's gender, made her a cis man, and Tyler keened at every rehearsal as he watched Josh kiss another boy with more tongue than their high-school productions allowed.

Tyler thinks about stopping him after class and remarking how strange it must be for them to go to the same high school, the same community college, and now the same university. "What a coincidence!" Tyler would tell him, but he'd give Tyler a look and inch away because he wouldn't think it'd be a coincidence. But it is. Tyler swears it. Maybe Tyler could start a conversation like this anyway, ask about Josh's family, if he worries about them, if that's also why he decided to go to college somewhat close to home. Maybe they could go home together on weekends and listen to music in the car and laugh. Tyler likes hearing Josh laugh. It's loud enough to be heard up on the scaffolding, where Tyler is trying his hardest to not tip over and fall onto the stage.

"It's not fucking fair," Tyler pouts to himself, a leg pulled to his chest as he watches the auditions for their latest production from the scaffolding. Mark is beside him, on his phone, and raises an eyebrow. He's quiet, though, so Tyler goes back to pouting.

They're doing a musical this semester— _Rent_. Tyler's seen the movie version when he was a teenager. It stuck with him. He's trying to be happy, but that's hard to do when Josh is on his way to nabbing Roger with a pretty Latina transfer student as Mimi. They have great chemistry, which is fine—and it makes Tyler want to both vomit and cry. They're good together, Josh never not smiling and taking his eyes off her, which is fine—and it makes Tyler want to both vomit and cry.

Mark nudges him in the ribs. "You should try out. You're a good singer."

"Shut up," Tyler says. "Self-sabotage."

"Be Mark," Mark says, and grins.

"I'm not even Jewish."

It doesn't matter. Mark is drawing the professor's attention with a wave of his arm and a shout that causes Tyler to groan. Tyler's about to lunge at Mark's legs and break his kneecaps—and then, Tyler sees Josh looking up at him, smiling that smile of his, and saying to the professor, "Tyler's a great singer. He did all the functions in high school."

They're almost three years out of high school, and that seems to mean nothing to everybody. Tyler is shoved on stage by Mark, who tells him to break a leg, and suddenly, underneath that spotlight, Tyler feels too hot and too cold, and he's worried about the hole in his shoe and how he can totally see his dinosaur socks through it.

"Tyler," their professor says, and their voice is kind and sweet, edging Tyler's eyes from his feet. They know how to coax shy students and how to push them from their shell. "Who do you want to audition for?"

"Mark," Mark says, so Tyler squeaks, "Mark," and then quickly adds, "but I'm not Jewish."

It doesn't matter. Josh is beside him now, blue curls more vibrant here than they ever were several feet above the stage. His eyes are on Tyler's, and he isn't smiling. He's quiet, careful, and he says, "You can do 'Halloween'. You do know this musical, right?"

"Do I know this musical?" Tyler scoffs and straightens his spine, shoulders back and chest out. "I don't even need the script." He's trying to be tough, and it works. Tyler's faux confidence makes him soar through the song, and now he's Mark Cohen—the fucking main character and Goddamn narrator—and now he has an excuse to stop Josh after class, on the sidewalk, on the street corner. Now he has an excuse to touch Josh's arm and fiddle with his hoodie string and tell him he's—

It's later that night, as Tyler's in bed, he realizes he and Josh are going to sing together, multiple times, and Tyler screams so loudly Mark wakes and starts beating him with a pillow.

"Thought you were being fucking murdered. Shit."

"I'm dying, Mark. I'm literally going to die on stage."

"Okay, but that'd be a good anecdote."

Another thing Tyler realizes, this time in the morning, is that he needs to dance—to _tango_ , to be specific, and Tyler screams again.

Mark smacks his hand with a spoon, wet from milk and saliva. "Shut _up_."

"I can't dance. You've seen me dance. I can't fucking dance."

"That's what rehearsals are for, dude."

Tyler is a little okay after that. He's screaming again—internally this time—when rehearsals come around, and Josh volunteers to teach him and the girls playing Joanne and Maureen to tango. The girls say they've learned before, are a little shaky, and let Josh help Tyler completely, since he's never learned. From the scaffolding, Mark laughs.

"Wow, okay," Josh says at the end, trying not to laugh, but doing a horrible job at it. "You, uh, you really have no idea what you're doing."

"Thanks."

Josh rubs the bridge of his nose. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

Tyler screams—internally, again. "Oh, yeah."

Josh openly laughs. It's heartwarming. "Gosh, you're cute."

Maybe Tyler screams a little less than internally this time around, and maybe the sound that leaves his mouth is a little more like a keysmash than an actual coherent scream, if a scream could be coherent. And maybe Josh laughs more, and maybe Josh repeats himself. "Yeah, definitely. Want my phone number? I'll give you dancing lessons on the side. You have got to grow out of those two left feet you have."

They look at Tyler's feet. Today, he's wearing pumpkin socks. Josh says, "Cool socks." Tyler smiles.

Tyler doesn't have to think about stopping Josh after class. Josh's number is in his phone, and Tyler can just _text Josh_ if he wants to see him. The action of texting Josh gives Tyler a stomachache, so he never texts Josh first. Besides, he doesn't want to bother Josh. Getting rejected for plans when he was nervous to make plans initially would be the nail on his coffin.

Whenever Josh texts him, Tyler drops everything he's doing to reply. Mark calls him a puppy, whipped, in love, and Tyler doesn't tell Mark he's wrong.

_My place again? Does six sound okay?_

_yeah!_

They always go to Josh's place, mostly because Josh lives in the apartments on campus, while Tyler occupies a dorm. Apartments have more room, hence why they're always at Josh's place. Plus, Josh's roommates are never home, and it's nice to spend an evening with Josh, touching Josh, dancing with Josh, breathing in Josh's air.

Tyler's obsessed.

Josh fixes them hot chocolate before Tyler gets there, and they sip on it throughout the lesson, enjoying the way the mugs leave their hands warm, their skin pink, their eyes cheerful.

"You're getting better," Josh says. "Soon you won't need me at all."

Tyler rolls his eyes.

They dance for an hour and either watch TV or play video games or listen to music or talk or _whatever_ for the next. Aside from being hot and talented as hell, Josh is actually a decent guy. He's all mushy in the center and laughs at Tyler's dumb jokes. He texts Tyler to ask how he's doing and if he wants to get coffee—and Tyler is never one to say no to caffeine. Josh genuinely cares for Tyler, and somehow that's bizarre for Tyler to understand.

"We never talked in high school," he says while they are on a coffee run for the rest of the theatre kids. "And we did all the plays at the community college. How did…?" Tyler shakes his head.

"How did a guy like me miss out on a catch like you? No clue." Josh smiles. Tyler's chest catches fire.

They aren't dating. Mark says they are, but Tyler is in denial. "Do you see the way he looks at her during rehearsals? He likes _her_."

"Dude." Mark flings a red Skittle at Tyler's head. "It's called _acting_."

They might be dating. After a dancing lesson, they crash on Josh's couch and flip the channel to a liberal news station. Josh asks him, "So, I'm having a bit of trouble when it comes to kissing that girl," and Tyler doesn't know if he's supposed to cry or jump through the roof or _what_.

"What kind of trouble?" Tyler keeps his eyes on the TV.

"She's never kissed anyone before. I want it to be special, you know? Kinda stupid because it'll be in front of everybody, and we're actors, but… it should be special, right?" Josh has an arm slung around the back of the sofa, his body tilted toward Tyler, like they're having a heart-to-heart, a personal conversation. They are, in a sense.

Tyler looks at Josh. He shrugs. "Sure."

Josh picks at his nail. He's wearing a NASA t-shirt that has a small hole in the stomach. Pale skin shows through it. "You can tell me no. I want you to know that upfront."

"What is it?"

Josh is nervous. He continues to pick at his nails. "Okay." He pulls his legs onto the couch, sits criss-cross applesauce, and leans forward, elbows on knees. "Can I kiss you, and then you can tell me which one I should use on opening night?"

Tyler might die.

He doesn't reply fast enough. Josh takes it the wrong way. "You're not into dudes, are you? Which is fine. I mean, I have no problem with straight people. It's just that… you're a theatre kid. All theatre kids are queer."

"I am queer," Tyler says.

"Cool." Josh smiles a little. He lowers his head. "So, you just don't want to kiss me?"

Tyler can't tell Josh he's never been kissed before. That'll make him a total loser, and Josh might pop out some bullshit about how Tyler's first kiss should be special, like he's doing with this girl's first kiss. But Tyler can't do that. Why would he pass up the chance to kiss Josh fucking Dun?

"No." Tyler laughs. "No, I really want to kiss you."

"Eager?" Josh cocks an eyebrow. He scoots closer, stretching out a leg to wrap loosely around Tyler's waist. He's hot. Josh is hot. Tyler says as much.

"Fuck, yeah. You're hot."

Josh's eyes are playful. He smiles with white teeth. "Tell me which one you like better."

Tyler nods.

"This?" Josh touches Tyler's shoulders, slowly leaning forward until their lips match up and connect. Tyler can't breathe. He forgets how to breathe. Does he kiss Josh back, or is he just supposed to observe? Take notes? Tyler shivers and lightly puckers his lips. It's nothing, but Josh appreciates the enthusiasm.

"Or this one?" Josh touches Tyler's face now and turns his head a different angle. This time, when their lips meet, Josh's are already parted. It's wet. Tyler parts his lips, too, but Josh pulls away before it develops.

"How about this one?" Josh sucks on Tyler's bottom lip.

"Or this?" Josh gives a simple peck.

"This one?" Josh presses their foreheads together. He licks Tyler's top lip and takes it between his teeth, kissing, sucking, and Tyler shivers and quivers.

"That one? You like that one?" Josh keeps their foreheads together and shuts his eyes. Tyler can see the faint blue veins on his eyelids. "Which one should I do?"

Tyler closes his eyes. "The first one."

"And the others? When should I do the others?"

"Right now," Tyler whispers. "Again. Do them now."

Josh does. These kisses develop. These kisses move into more territory Tyler has no experience in, save from him quaking beneath his blankets hoping Mark doesn't stop snoring. Tyler does what he did before on stage during his audition—faking it until he's making it. It works. Josh calls him a good boy as he's fucking Tyler, telling Tyler he's gorgeous and magnificent and other praises that fall on deaf ears while Tyler's back arches and toes curl and dick leaks.

They go to Josh's room once they recover and clean up to sleep. Tyler never knew he liked being the little spoon until now.

The morning after isn't awkward. Tyler expects it to be, but Josh kisses him awake and says he's beautiful and fixes him a bowl of cereal, served to him in bed. Tyler is the happiest he's ever been, and he thinks watching Josh from afar made their union even sweeter.

So, they might be dating. Tyler doesn't know.

On opening night, Tyler sings his heart out without succumbing to his nerves, dances with as much skill as if he's been dancing since he learned to walk, and almost—literally—breaks a leg from falling over when he sees Josh kiss the girl for the first time. It's none of the kisses Tyler shared with Josh weeks prior. It's something new. It's something short and delicate and nothing remarkable. Tyler wonders if he should be flattered.

At the end, they all bow. Tyler never wants to stop holding Josh's hand.

"Hey," he says, standing next to Josh during the cast party after the show. A half-empty can of Coke is in his hand, and an ache is in his chest. "What—?"

Josh is smiling. "I know what a first kiss feels like, Tyler."

Tyler wants to die. He doesn't. He swallows his pride and wraps Josh's hoodie string around his finger. "Yeah, well, you're a good kisser."

When they kiss this time, they hear applause. Tyler thinks he might be floating.

That weekend, they drive home together and listen to music. They talk of nothing and everything, and Josh laughs. Tyler likes hearing Josh laugh.


End file.
